Birds of Prey
by Consulting Hunter Lord
Summary: What if Batman never took in the Robins? Dick is Talon the assassin, Jason is the same old Crime lord for the sake of twisted justice and Tim is a free-lancing private spy, information for hire. What happens when Talon gets a hit on the Hood and needs the help of an undercover informant? Read and find out. Jason/Dick/Tim. M for violence, profanity and later smut.
1. Chapter 1

Talon stood slouched on the cold railing of the balcony, still as a statue and bored. Very, very bored. But his man would have to come out eventually. He'd been staking the target out for hours outside of the warehouse where, right at this very moment, a meeting between all the mob bosses and crime lords of Gotham city was underway. He really should just stalk in there right now and kill them all. Slit their throats or shoot them or even plant a bomb. Talon's piercing, yellow eyes glittered at the thought and his lips even twitched in amusement. It could be fun... At least it would end the boredom. But a mass murder, especially a mass murder of all the organized crime leaders of the city would create absolute anarchy inside the city. Not that he cared about rusty, dusty, dirty Gotham City, but the Court of Owls wouldn't be pleased. The city had a protector...someone who would surely avenge any tampering, especially from a ruthless hitman like himself. The Batman would rear up his head and surely hunt them down until he discovered who they were and tried to interfere or take revenge. Talon would be punished for that...possibly even terminated. Both options, needless to say, were something Talon very much wanted to avoid. Besides, it was needless for the rest of the scum to die, as far as he was concerned. He only had one target...a big target; Red Hood. He would have his fun yet. All he had to do was wait until the crime lord walked out of the warehouse doors and then he could play.

Dick sighed dramatically; a huff of breath condensed in the freezing night air and let his sharp eyes wander after it until it dissolved into the murky, starless sky. He was starting to get restless now, he realized as he once again pulled a dagger from his belt and twirled it absently in his hand. The meetings never lasted this long. Dick had been stalking this guy for weeks and waited outside several of these little get-togethers, and none of them had lasted longer than one hour at most. This one, the night that Talon had finally decided to make his move, had now extended into hour number four and delayed him considerably. That didn't sit well with him. Hood was going to pay for wasting Talon's time, he decided with a sadistic smirk, re-pocketing the dagger with twitching fingers.

Hour number five came and went and Talon was inventing more and more ghastly punishments by the minute. Finally, 15 minutes into hour six when he decided joint-by-joint dismemberment and forced consumption was a worthy punishment for Red Hood's lack of punctuality, the massive warehouse doors creaked and groaned below before finally screeching open and releasing the various criminal overlords below.

Their faces were pale and one of them even fell to his knees and vomited into the garbage pile in the alley. Must be a new recruit to have that weak of a stomach, Talon smirked silently to himself, still leaning casually against the balcony railing. The audience dispersed quickly, as usual (at least they never took their time with that) and Talon grinned darkly as his target, always the last to leave the warehouse, finally emerged into the street and closed the metal door behind him. Talon wasted no time and hopped smoothly over the metal balcony, landing perfectly on his feet right in front of the man and drawing his dual swords out at the ready.

"I've been waiting for you," he smiled alluringly with a tilt of his head and a flash of his predatory yellow eyes.

Red Hood audibly laughed behind his helmet and put one hand to rest on his hip without bothering to draw his gun. If he could see it, Talon was sure the man would be smirking. Talon had actually never seen this guy's face before; he always had the damn helmet on. Maybe he had a nasty scar he didn't want anyone to see for fear of weakness, or maybe he was just very protective of his identity. Either way, ripping the damn thing off was going to be Talon's great victory; savoring the first and last expression on the Red Hood's face before he finally killed him; fear. Just like everyone else. But fear was the exact opposite reaction he received when he realized that Red Hood was...laughing at him?

"Really? That's the line you go with to intimidate me?" the man scoffed. "It's so cliche, it hurts. You had me going until you opened your mouth. Assassins should be seen, and definitely not heard in your case. Actually," he amended as an afterthought, "a good assassin shouldn't even be seen. What kind of killer are you, bird boy?"

Talon blinked in shock. He arched a brow and pointed the edge of his blade directly against the Hood's throat. "You're awfully cocky for someone who's about to die," he hummed in amusement at Hood's lack of fear. Interesting. He'd have to fix that.

"Humor me," Red Hood snorted, making Talon's skin crawl. "Come on, as a dying man's wish. Where on earth did they dig you up, hot stuff?"

"Same place you're about to go, sweetheart," Talon replied with a smirk. Two could play this game. "The pits of hell."

"Ooh, how cryptic. Much better," Hood nodded in approval. Talon rolled his glowing eyes.

"Are you going to put up a fight and attempt to give me a challenge, or are you going to stand here flirting with me and make my job easy?" Talon retorted without missing a beat. Before Talon could blink, Hood unexpectedly knocked his feet out from underneath, twisted one of his swords out of his hands and aimed it precisely above his rapidly beating heart. Talon stared up, frozen in awe; no one had ever managed that before. But then, no one had ever casually flirted over their own deaths before, either. Hood was good...definitely not a stranger to hitmen antics or attempts. No matter. Talon was no ordinary hitman.

"What? I'm not allowed to make a little foreplay? You must be one of those strictly 'down to business' kind of guys," Hood shook his head sadly.

"I prefer to think of it as 'hit and run,'" Talon grinned at his own pun before kicking the weapon out of Hood's hand, repossessing it and jumping up fluidly before kicking Hood into the nearest wall and strutting over with something of a swagger in his hips.

Hood grunted from the force of the impact and shook his head swiftly to gather his wits again. "Your sense of humor might just be a deal breaker."

"I can live with that," Talon smirked. Jason snorted before launching himself at the assassin, who danced almost gracefully out of the way before snatching the back of the collar on Hood's leather jacket and slamming him down against the ground. Hood retaliated by twisting and kicking Talon's feet out from underneath him again and rolling on top to straddle him and pin his wrists high above his head.

"You know, you look really hot, all sprawled underneath me like this," Hood commented, reaching for the gun at his side.

"You should see how flexible I am," Talon added breathlessly before proving his point and using his legs to wrap his ankles around the man's throat, effectively throwing him off and switching their positions. He smiled seductively and took the chance to press his hidden dagger against Hood's throat. Unfortunately, however, Hood had already reached his gun and had that pressed point blank against Talon's forehead, so they were in a very provocative, not-so-stand off.

"Aw, did you get shy?" Hood mocked when Talon hesitated. "Or did my big package scare you off?"

Talon snorted and rolled his eyes before pushing off of the criminal and backing away cautiously. "Don't get so cocky. It's not the biggest I've ever seen."

"It's not the size that matters, sweetheart, it's the firepower," Hood laughed, never once wavering his aim as they circled each other. "And let me tell you, it packs one hell of a punch."

"I'm sure," Dick replied dryly, darting his eyes to his two discarded swords directly behind his adversary. How was he to get to them without getting blown up by a Desert Eagle...hmm.

"So. Now that I have the advantage, you can either run and live to hunt me another day, or you can try and get to your swords, in which case I'll blow your head off. What's it gonna be?"

"You're giving me a choice?" Talon tilted his head suspiciously. "That's not usually how you work. Red Hood doesn't negotiate."

"Did it sound like I was compromising with you?" Hood retorted. "I thought it sounded more like a friendly ultimatum."

"But why give me the chance to get away?" Talon insisted, honestly at awe at the stupidity and/or tenacity of the man.

Red Hood audibly chuckled. "I like to spice things up. Why are you trying to kill me anyway?"

Talon hummed and smiled seductively, taking one cautious step forward. Hood cocked the gun without hesitation and Talon froze once again. "It's nothing personal, Red. You're just another name on the list. I don't ask why. I just have fun with it."

"You must be having a ball right now," Hood audibly smirked.

"You have no idea. You just made the game interesting," Talon smiled dangerously. "I don't normally need effort for a hit. The fact that you actually present a challenge just made the game significantly more interesting. My victory will be so much sweeter in the end when I finally kill you. You know; lose the battle, win the war thing."

Hood groaned and sighed. "Again with the cliches," he shook his head before lowering the gun and holstering it easily. Dick arched a brow and watched as the man turned to pick up the dual swords behind him and admire them in the light of the street lamp.

"These will make a nice souvenir," he commented with a smugness that made Talon's lips twitch in irritation. "I think I'll hang them up on my- guh," he choked as a flying assassin leaped and twisted through the air to land a kick and drop him on his ass. The swords clattered to the floor and Talon lifted them to return them to their holsters on his back almost lovingly. Then he turned back to the wheezing crime lord before him and smirked down, shaking his head and tsk-tsking him condescendingly.

"Those are mine," he leered, kneeling down so that he was looking the man directly in the eyes (or the white eye lenses of the helmet, anyway). "Touch them again...and I'll make a sheath out of one of your orphices."

"Kinky," Hood retorted, making Dick roll his eyes.

"You have no idea," he repeated, pulling the man forward by his chin and pressing a fierce kiss against the cold metal of the helmet. "I'll see you again, Hood. Watch your back," he stood and strutted away slowly. "As well as your front," he added with a smirk before leaping back up onto the balcony he had watched from earlier and disappearing into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Bang bang bang! "Drake! On your feet, let's go!"

Tim awoke hazily to the security guard's incessant snapping and banging against the bars of his cell. He groaned and dragged himself off the hard, springy mattress that wasn't all that comfortable anyway. "Wa's goin' on?" he muttered in sleepy annoyance as the guard opened the door. Tim held out his wrists, as was custom, in order for the man to slap handcuffs unnecessarily tight around his wrists and yank him forward out of the cell.

"You've got a visitor," the gruff voice replied from behind him as he pushed Tim along down the hall.

"It's the middle of the night," Tim complained with a yawn. The guard just snorted and gave him an extra sharp jab from his baton. It wasn't the first time this had happened, to be honest. He had shady, impromptu visitors all the time trying to coerce him for information. Or threaten...or pay him off...or would even offer to bust him out of Arkham. Tim smirked as each and every time he sent them packing with their tails between their legs. Whoever this new solicitor was was about to be sorely disappointed, just like the rest of them. Tim just wanted to get this over with and go back to sleep.

"Sit," the guard barked as he heavy metal door to the windowless, concrete interrogation room. Not many people knew of it's existence here at Arkham, but whenever a client needed a meeting with an inmate and didn't want to be overheard or disturbed, this was where it always took place. Tim obeyed the man without a word and sat at the plain metal table, hands outstretched as the guard shackled him to it mechanically.

"You might want to humor this one, Drake," the man sneered as he sauntered back toward the door. "Otherwise, I'd have a body to explain to the warden, and that would just be inconvenient."

"Your concern is touching," Tim rolled his eyes dryly as the man disappeared through the door and closed it behind him.

"You have ten minutes," he heard the guard say to the visitor outside. He took a deep breath and sighed, trying and failing to prevent another yawn before, right on schedule, the lights flickered out. He stared into the darkness, bored until not four seconds later the lights blared back to life and he saw the strangest man he had ever met.

He was young...not much older than himself, he suspected. And he was lovely...in a sharp, deadly kind of way. His hair was dark and fell in messy points all around his face. He was long and slender, but the tight contours of the black suit (which left very little to the imagination) showed off lean, lethal muscles underneath. His face displayed exotic features like his curved lips and straight, pointed nose and aristocratic cheek bones underneath dark, olive tinted skin, but what was most striking were his strange, piercing yellow eyes with a vertical slit like a snake or...a bird of some kind.

Tim couldn't hide his open mouthed stare as his stomach lurched and fluttered in that annoying teenage way. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He'd never had a visitor quite like this before.

The visitor's lips curved into a seductive smile, his sharp eyes not missing Tim's reaction for a second. "Like what you see?" he murmured in a sultry, tenor voice that made Tim shiver.

"It's not everyday I get eye candy," Tim retorted, trying to be witty, but failing to hide the way he cleared his throat or blushed light pink. The visitor chuckled lightly and draped himself into the seat opposite to Tim.

"Can I ask why you...what you want with me?" Tim cleared his throat again and asked firmly as he could.

"Why do you think?" he replied, beating around the bush, but not missing a beat.

"Information, just like everyone else," Tim deadpanned, something like disappointment settling in his chest, but he pushed it away determinedly.

"Of sorts...yes," the man nodded, lacing his slender, gloved fingers together and resting his chin atop them as he peered over at Tim with his strange yellow eyes.

"What do you want to know?" Damn it, he makes it sound like he might actually let the information go. The visitor smiled and placed one hand lazily down onto the top of the table.

"What do you know about the Red Hood?" he asked innocently with a tilt of his lovely chin.

Tim ignored the fluttering in his stomach and furrowed his brows as the thought back to his time on the streets. But wait, wait...he shook his head...his intel was never for free, even for mysterious gorgeous men. "Why?" Tim retorted suspiciously.

"I have business with him that needs to be taken care of," the visitor replied vaguely. Tim rolled his eyes.

"And why would I help you? I have no reason to want the guy dead," Tim muttered indifferently.

His visitor arched a brow imperceptively. "Neither do I."

"So you're just trying to kill him for no reason?" Tim challenged with a smirk.

"Just doing my job," the man shrugged.

"Not very well if you need the help of an incarcerated teenager."

That made the visitor laugh and lean forward on his elbows to leer closer at Tim. "You're no ordinary teenager, though, now are you?" he smiled as Tim stiffened. "Just like Red Hood is no ordinary target and I'm no ordinary assassin. It's...complicated. Hood's no idiot, I need a tactical advantage."

"You want me to be your tool?"Tim grimaced, unimpressed.

"Oh, don't say it like that," his visitor pouted his lips.

"Sorry to disappoint," Tim replied dryly. "But even if I wanted to help you, my knowledge of the Red Hood is limited." His visitor pulled back with a hard look on his face and Tim never wavered despite the ferocious glare. "Like you said, he's not an idiot. He's not an easy one to just follow around." The visitor grunted, unable to deny it from his own experience, Tim guessed.

"Neither was Batman," he finally retorted, making Tim jolt.

"How did you- that information was sealed-"

"I didn't do it legally, obviously," the man rolled his eyes. "I've read your...hidden record and I know all about you. I know you followed him around for years when you first started out. I know you know who he is, I know you know everything about him. I know that when it got out that you knew and every criminal in Gotham started hunting you down, you and Batman had an agreement to place you in here for your own safety. And his too, I guess. I'd want to keep you hidden away too if you knew all my dirty secrets. I don't know how you two figured Arkham is the safest place for you, but-"

"Because as dirty and overrun with criminals as it is, this is the tightest security facility in the country. I'm in solitary for a reason. Not even youwould have gotten to me without paying the warden off. Or killing him."

"How do you know I won't just kill you now that I have you?"

"Because you need me," Tim replied, squaring his shoulders intently.

"Not if you can't give me the information I need," the man stood, unsheathing a silver dagger and twisting it dangerously in his hand.

Tim's heart began to hammer in his chest. "Just because I don't have it doesn't mean I can't get it," he snapped, unable to back away because of the handcuffs keeping him in place. The visitor paused and tilted his lovely head with a thoughtful expression.

"Is that an offer?" he smirked dangerously.

"No. It's just a fact," Tim retorted. "Whether or not I'll do it for you depends on the price you're willing to pay."

"I don't think you're in a position to negotiate, darling," the man reminded, pressing the point of the dagger against Tim's shoulder lightly.

Tim shivered but remained stoic. "Oh, but I am. If you kill me, you have nothing. You could always find another sap to go undercover for you, I'm sure, but none of them are as good as me and you know it." The man narrowed his eyes but otherwise remained silent and still with his dagger never moving from Tim's skin. "So...what'll it be?

"Name your price," the man murmured poisonously soft.

"Leverage," Tim smirked underneath the blade.

"Leverage?" the man repeated questioningly.

"Yes. Tactical advantage is a precious thing. I don't mind getting my hands dirty, but I need more than just your word for protection," Tim narrowed his eyes mysteriously.

"Meaning?" the man challenged with a sneer.

You want my services for information on someone else, the price is that I get all the information on you." Tim would have crossed his arms if he could. Damn the shackles.

"What?"

"You heard me."

The visitor was dead silent, staring intently down at him. Tim could see his wrist twitch and his dangerous yellow eyes flash as he processed the terms inside his head. "You...want to be able to blackmail me in case I double cross you?"

"Not necessarily. Well...yes, but not entirely," Tim amended, humming thoughtfully. "It's also in case you kill me, in which case they'll find documented records of your existence and know exactly who you are, who you work for and where to find you. It's also because I am genuinely interested in each and every one of my clients. I just enjoy the knowledge," he smirked, lacing his fingers together while his shackles clanked together.

"You wouldn't be allowed to live if I told you," the man warned, the dagger gleamed at his side as if to emphasize. "The people I work for...they'll have me kill you, and it won't be quick. I'll have to torture you until you tell me where your documents are and have them all taken and destroyed."

"I can handle myself. After the job, you'll never see me again. But...You can always say no and the whole thing can be avoided. I'm not changing the terms," Tim responded firmly, though not un-politely. "You just need to figure out how badly you want the Red Hood."

"Fine," the visitor snapped back without hesitation. "But don't say I didn't warn you. Where do you want me to start?"

"For now?" Tim eyed the big metal door as the guard's voice murmured to another outside. "Let's start with just your name. The rest will come later after you get me out of here."

The visitor snorted softly and rolled his eyes before grabbing the chain-lined cuffs and ripping them apart easily to free Tim's hands. "I'm called Talon."

Tim stared in shock at the shattered metal. This man was powerful. "Cut the crap. I want your real name," Tim demanded, standing and rubbing his naked wrists in awe.

Talon exhaled sharply in annoyance as he shoved the black locks of hair out of his face. "My name is Dick. Dick Grayson."

"Dick Grayson," Tim repeated, tilting his head as the words shaped themselves like liquid and left his lips. "Well, Dick Grayson, it's nice to meet you," he extended his small hand, which Dick took and shook stiffly. "Now. Are you going to get me out of here or what?" Dick's yellow eyes glittered dangerously as he smiled, drawing his dual swords just as the door opened to the guard snapping "Time's up!"


	3. Chapter 3

Daylight: Dick used to love the daylight. Back in his younger, happier days, he was always outside playing under the hot sunlight; walking on his hands in the grass, playing a game of keep-away from the clowns as they chased him through the tents or simply just snoozing with the elephants before the night fell and the show started. But that was a long time ago. There was no joy in sunlight now, there was hardly ever real joy at all, except in the cheap thrill of a kill...but he had been painfully taught to enjoy that experience. He was a creature of the night now, and sunlight hurt him in more ways than just a painful memory. His bright yellow eyes, so convenient and precise in their mutation in the hunt of a dark night, couldn't bear the intensity of the light outside (which was hardly a surprise, there was a reason owls are nocturnal). So now that the sun had risen, Dick made sure the musty red hotel curtains were shut tight against the light of dawn. He didn't even turn around until the door was locked three times over. That was apparently Tim's cue to switch on the meager little lamp by the bed to dimly illuminate the cheap, green and red floral-wallpapered hotel room. Dick blinked, but this light was nowhere near as harsh as the sun, and it was far easier to get used to than the fluorescent lights at Arkham had been. Not that Tim needed to know that.

But of course, Tim was perceptive as he was ingenious. "Those eyes...they must process light differently than normal," he commented casually, standing in the middle of the room but careful to give Dick a respectful berth. Dick should have expected this from the best detective short only of Batman himself, but he was used to people (if he had to confront them at all) just staring in fear at his eyes; no one had ever actually inquired about them. "You winced at the sky as we were coming in and your eyes dilated improperly to the lamplight. I originally thought they were similar to snake eyes or cat eyes...but neither of them are photosensitive,so-"

"Owl eyes," Dick cut him off, arching an eyebrow, impressed and irritated at the same time. "They're the reason I can see in the dark." Tim nodded thoughtfully and Dick brushed past him purposely too close on his way to flop down on top of the floral quilt on the bed. He groaned and shifted as he let his body sprawl out with one leg over the edge and both hands resting above his lovely head which was tilted comfortably against the pillows. He smiled almost seductively when he caught Tim watching him scrupulously, still wringing his hands together uncertainly in the center of the small room, still with his bright orange jumpsuit that clashed so spectacularly with the rosy walls. "You just going to stare at me all night, Timmy?" he snarked, hiding a chuckle when his sharp eyes detected a slight flush rising in the boy's cheeks. "Or are we going to get down to business?"

Tim audibly cleared his throat and straightened up. "I-...shut up," the boy ordered him with a mutter that almost made Dick laugh. This kid might be fun after all, he smirked to himself privately as he let his eyes roam freely down and up Tim's hideously dressed (though not quite unattractive) physique. That earned another pink blush to nicely tint Tim's cheeks once again.

"Come on," Dick beckoned with an arch of his elegant brow. "Come sit so we can talk," he insisted, patting the sliver of space left just beside his lap. Tim could be seen visibly rolling his eyes, but only to hide the nervous fidget of his fingers as he moved forward to take Dick's invitation. Dick, with his exceptionally sharp sight, could see every hair follicle on the boy's arm raised on edge, and smirked as Tim finally took a seat not beside him,but at the foot of the bed. As if that were the safest position. Ha. But then again, around Talon, no position was safe.

For a moment, there was complete, intense silence between the two. Tim could be seen chewing hesitantly on the inside of his cheek and even shifting uncomfortably as Dick just smirked with his unwavering, expectant stare. But to the boy's credit, he was stubborn and willful for not even once backing down and looking away. Good. He'd need that trait to get to Red Hood who, he had discovered during the early days of his surveillance, particularly enjoyed the company of boys like this. Red Hood never did care for the overly timid ones. Tim really had been an extraordinary find in more ways than one. Aside from the specific expertise Tim very conveniently possessed (which he wasn't really searching for at the time; if he really wanted to kill Hood right now by himself, he could. But where was the fun in that?), he had fallen perfectly under what Dick had learned to classify as Hood's type. More than once, he caught the crime lord with a pretty, dark haired beauty at his side. Sometimes men, sometimes women, all of different ages but generally with the same physique. His first choice to infiltrate the Red Hood had immediately been Cat Woman; she met the physique of dark hair and litheness of the body, but then he realized that Red Hood probably already knew her. Or about her at least. Criminals knew their fellow criminals in this city. Plus, the Cat was always followed closely by the Bat and that was the last thing Dick needed. He had then entertained the thought about seducing the man himself. He fit the criteria, of course, but Dick was anything but subtle. Or patient. He'd jump the gun to early and blow the whole thing. It was a shame though, he smirked to himself, for not getting into those pants before he ruined his chances. So now that Dick had found his new little accomplice with espionage as his specific skill set, it was too perfect. The brat was a pain in the ass to get to, but as valuable as he was, it was worth one extra dead body of a security guard and the thousands of dollars it took to bribe silence from the warden. That also made the game much more complicated... because Tim was more valuable than just bait like he had initially planned. Plus, he literally just sold his soul (or all the information about it, anyway) in exchange for the boy's services. He had to be very careful about how he played this.

It had been exactly two minutes of silent staring at each other at this point, until at last, just as Tim opened his attractively pink lips to speak, Dick cut him off (which earned him an annoyed look from the younger). "So, baby, do I pay you before or after?" his lips twitched as he watched Tim's cheeks darken at the innuendo.

Tim cleared his throat and replied as firmly as he could through his blush. "Actually, I've come up with a payment plan." The boy never missed a beat, did he?

"Oh?" Dick arched a brow in interest as he pulled himself to sit up and edge slowly into Tim's personal space. He could see Tim's shoulders tense up and hear his breath stutter, which made him smile. He loved having this effect on people; it always did give him certain advantages like making interrogation and getting laid pretty easy.

"Yeah," Tim replied in a soft breath before clearing his throat, shifting just enough to distance himself a few inches and repeating it more sternly. "Yes. But first, I need to know what your plan is."

"My plan?" Dick hummed, examining the lining of the gauntlets at the tips of his fingers as though he were only half paying attention.

"Yes, Dick, your plan," Tim furrowed his brows in a hard line as Dick tried to ignore the discomfort of the boy calling out his real name. That was the last piece of himself he had left, and now he had given it to some brilliant and equally bratty teenager.

Dick didn't answer right away. He took a moment to stretch languidly, crack his neck and lean in to settle ever closer to Tim (who was running out of space to pull away). "My plan," he repeated softly. "That's easy. I want you to fuck Red Hood." Tim's eyes widened, clearly taken aback.

"Wait...what?" He protested. "That was never-"

"I said I wanted you to infiltrate him and spy on him for me," Dick interrupted smoothly, staring the boy down with his piercing yellow eyes. "The easiest way to weasel your way in and find out every dirty secret is seduction. And honey, you're exactly his type," Dick smirked, eyes flashing deviously.

"But I- that's not my area, and I'm-...who said I was even...you know?" He sputtered, making Dick laugh out loud.

"You're joking right?" Dick snorted in amusement. "First of all, you should have learned by now that when someone pays you to do dirty work, you don't back out because of personal preferences. And second," and this was the part where Dick's grin turned feral. Just like that, faster than Tim could blink, Dick had snatched Tim's shoulders, twisted him down and around in order to climb on top and pin his wrists above his head much like Hood had done to Dick himself two nights ago. Dick's muscles were coiled tight with the same excitement, too, and the thrill of having Tim, perfectly disciplined Tim like this at his mercy almost eclipsed his current line of thought. At least until he felt the evidence he had been searching for. "Second," he continued. "You're kidding yourself if you think I haven't seen the way you've been eyeing me all night," he purred into the boy's ear, feeling him shiver underneath. "It's okay. You don't have to lie to me."

"I-..." Tim choked, struggling to escape Dick's grip but putting up a pretty weak fight.

"You what?" Dick murmured, tilting his head with a far from innocent smile.

"I just- I've never, um-" with every word, Tim seemed to grow redder and redder, which made the way he bit his lip almost too enticing to be fair, in Dick's opinion. "I don't know how," Tim admitted with a final squeak.

Oh.

Well, that certainly wasn't expected. It didn't exactly put him off; quite the opposite actually. But it did put a bit of a complication in his scheme.

"Hmm...does that mean you can't do your job?" Dick replied in a sultry, dangerous voice, making Tim squirm even more underneath him. "Does that mean I broke you out of Arkham for nothing?" Dick's pin on Tim's wrists had become painfully tight now, but Tim had suddenly stopped squirming and became completely still.

"No...no, of course not," he whispered back. Dick, if he tried, could almost hear the frantic pounding of the boy's heart beneath him. "I just- isn't there any other way? I'm-..." Tim finally broke and cast his eyes away. "I can stalk him all day and night and find out everything I can-"

"I've already done that, sweetheart," Dick cut him off flatly. "There's only so much you can learn from stalking a masked man."

"I stalked Batman, didn't I? I learned everything about him," Tim objected, turning his head up to stare back once again with fire back in his eyes.

"This isn't Batman we're after," Dick growled. "This is the Red Hood, the Prince of Gotham's underground. Far more dangerous than Batman and far harder to find. Batman may scourge and protect Gotham, but Hood is Gotham. He could disappear and be anyone, anywhere and no one in the city could or would tell you anything. There's only so many people who could be the big Bat with all their riches and resources."

Tim seemed to absorb the rebuttal with a sunken face and he visibly swallowed his nerves. "I-...I guess," he mumbled, trying to steady his breathing.

Dick took the opportunity to lean down so close that their breath mingled and tickled softly against his neck. "You need to tell me if you can do this or not, Timmy," he purred softly, the hint of danger still a threat in his tone. Tim closed his eyes and became very quiet and almost stopped breathing completely. Dick could only imagine what was going through his head right now. And honestly, he did feel a twinge of sympathy for the boy; he was asking quite a lot for Tim to just give up his virginity like that. But business needed to be taken care of. If Tim couldn't do it... Talon inside of him ridiculed at him for being so soft, but rationally he hadn't given any information but his own name. He could still let the boy go. He'd lose his perfect advantage over the Hood and he'd have to put the fear of Talon in the boy to ensure he kept his mouth shut about him, but...he could still let him live. Keeping ones virginity wasn't a punishable offense. Or an offense at all. Not even the Owls made him lose that little bit of his humanity.

Still, Tim was silent underneath him. Dick waited as patiently as he could, even loosening his grip on Tim's wrists and moving to press them down beside his head. This motion seemed to make Tim stir and open his eyes at last. "I made a deal with you," he sounded resolved, the perfect discipline was back. "I can do it."

Dick arched a brow and tilted his head, uncertain. "You're just going to give up your innocence like that?" Was the kid even human?

"It doesn't mean much to me anyway, to be honest, it's just business," he shrugged as well as he could underneath Dick's grasp. "In my line of work, it's a useful skill to have anyway. My only problem is, um... I still don't know how. Hood won't keep me around long if I'm not able to please," Tim pinkened ever so slightly at the last word.

Dick's lips twitched as he tried and failed to keep the dirty rebuttal at bay. "Well then, it's my duty as your employer to train you," he snarked, making Tim snort and redden unwillingly.

"You're a man of many kinks, aren't you?" he muttured under his breath.

"You can't say it's not hot," Dick purred, sliding his hands from around Tim's wrists to instead caress up and down Tim's arms.

Tim conceded and nodded his head. "I'll give you that," he murmured quietly, breath hitching ever so slightly when Dick's lips brushed light as a feather against his neck.

Dick chuckled and pressed a firm, chaste kiss against Tim's throat before melting into a soft, intimate, wet one. Tim's breathing shallowed and he tilted his head just enough to extend his neck. Good, he was learning, Dick smirked, before switching suddenly from gentle licking to rough sucking against the hollow of his neck. Tim mewled at that and his hands flew up instantly to clutch Dick's shoulders in encouragement. Dick hummed in amusement and slid his expert, gauntlet-covered hands down Tim's sides, around the gentle curve of his hips (almost like a woman's, Dick thought...almost), to roughly caress his ass and smoothly pressed his palm against his thighs to guide it up and around Dick's own waist. Tim trembled beneath him, but otherwise willingly let Dick take the lead and shift him to whatever position he wanted. Dick continued without a hitch, kissing and biting and sucking his way around Tim's throat, and now that he was settled into the warmth between Timmy's legs, he contented himself with rolling his hips and grinding their covered cocks together ferally.

Tim gasped and let out a tiny moan, his fingers tightening their grip on Dick's arms as he took his own initiative to bite into the assassin's shoulder. The material was slick and smooth, and his eyes fluttered shut when he tasted Gotham and inhaled danger from the fabric. Dick growled briefly and thrusted his hips roughly against the boy.

"You're learning fast, jail bait," he snarked between increasingly shallow, desperate breaths. Tim would have replied if his brain were working properly or if his throat wasn't so dry, but after Dick rolled their hips together again he couldn't even if he tried, so he only managed a high pitched little whimper. Dick's lips curled into a lusty grin, his own glowing yellow irises barely visible around his huge, dilated pupils. Tim could only stare up at him as Dick first removed his black gauntlets, then began to slowly unzip and shuck off his Talon uniform like his own personal strip tease. First came the stunning view of his smooth torso, inch by inch as Dick slowly began to lift the shirt. Tim's eyes followed the trail from Dick's sharp hip bones to his bronze, toned naval and up his lean sides and chiseled chest. His nipples were pert and a lovely shade of bronze that made Tim desperately desire to lick them. He had to bite himself back and restrict himself to barely uncertainly caressing Dick's sides as the black top finally made it over Dick's head (which messed it up and gave him the sexiest windblown look Tim had ever seen) and tossed the cloth away without another thought.

Dick felt the boy's cock twitch in his pants underneath him and he smirked, making Tim groan. "Come on baby, don't be shy," he murmured invitingly, grasping Tim's wrists and forcing Tim's hands to move and caress up his naked torso. "You can touch me all you want," he added with a seductive whisper. Tim responded with simple, raspy breath of relief...or maybe even disbelief before eagerly accepting the instruction and letting his hands explore the man's hips and naval, back and chest and taught shoulders freely.

Dick's hips jerked in surprise when Tim almost immediately leaned up to fasten his lips around his nipple. "You bold little- fuck," he moaned, winding his fingers through Tim's dark hair and massaging roughly in encouragement. Tim grunted in compliance and sucked greedily and in turn Dick thrusted their hips together, almost making Tim stutter in his movements. Tim whimpered and nibbled teasingly at the nipple before licking a feather light trail and giving the same tongue and teeth action that he had given the it's twin. Dick's cock twitched and he hissed in pleasure. Damn sensitivity. Damn jail bait kid with more kinks than he was willing to admit. Dick growled and finally shoved the boy back onto the mattress and began to unfasten his pants.

"Strip," he commanded, dark and urgent. Tim bit his lip shyly, his already flushed cheeks reddening impossibly more as he obeyed and began removing the Arkham jumpsuit. Dick paused his own movements just to watch as the orange material practically melted off the boys shoulders to reveal a paper thin white t-shirt that did almost nothing to hide the pink flesh of his chest underneath. His mouth was almost watering when Tim pushed the orange suit steadily down his hips and pale, strong (stronger than Dick had imagined) leg muscles before kicking off his white shoes and shucking the suit the rest of the way off. The t-shirt was the next to go, leaving him in nothing but Arkham-issued briefs and a red, humiliated, shy, wanting blush on what was originally the palest white skin and pink rouged lips and rose bud nipples.

"We're going shopping tomorrow before your mission," Dick whispered on a hazy whim, making Tim tilt his head and furrow his brows in confusion. "You can't just walk around like an escaped convict with horrible taste in underwear."

"Oh," Tim cast his eyes up to Dick, chest rising and falling heavily (which was hotter than it had any right to be). "Okay. Um...that's fine. What underwear would you rather see me in?" The blush on the boy's face was unbelievable at this point.

Dick took one look at the boy's slim, lean body and didn't even have to think about his answer. "Right now? None," he growled before pressing Tim onto his back once more and using one quick motion of his hands to peel the briefs off and fling them away out of sight. Tim was left completely and utterly naked before him now, shivering slightly and never once taking his dark eyes off of Dick's face.

Dick groaned in admiration; Tim was really kind of pretty, all flushed and naked and vulnerable like this. His cock was just as rouged with blush as the rest of his body and the poor guy was already leaking pre-come in anticipation. Dick smirked again and gave Tim a flash of his mischeivous yellow eyes before gracefully leaning down to lick the bead away and swirl his tongue wetly around the soft pink tip. Tim keened underneath him and Dick had to press his hips down to stop him from bucking up into his mouth. Tim whimpered as Dick continued to play and lick a thick stripe up his underside, and even pushed his limits to thread his fingers needily into Dick's perfect hair (which Dick was kind or kinky enough to allow). Dick hummed and offered a small, humored chuckle before wrapping his lips completely around the shaft and sucking vehemently. Tim cried out in pleasure and tightened his grip in Dick's hair, encouraging and even pleading as Dick bobbed his head up and down rhythmically with plenty of tongue and humming vibrations. Dick even snaked his hand up to generously massage Tim's balls along with all the action. He could hear Tim almost crying above him, and he would have smiled at it if he could, if his mouth weren't so full of cock. Instead, his lips just tightened ever so slightly before his own cock started twitching from neglect. Dick sighed around the shaft, which made Tim twitch and shudder, and shoved his pants just low enough to expose his own groin and the soft,round curve of his ass before taking himself in hand and rubbing out some much needed friction.

"Please," Tim choked above him, obviously getting close. "Please."

Dick smirked and pulled off with a wet pop. "What is it Timmy?" he asked almost sickeningly sweet as he nosed light as a feather up and down Tim's shaft. "Do you need me to take care of you?" Tim whimpered, straining his hips up and nodding reluctantly.

"You want me inside you?" he murmured, moving to nip and kiss lightly along his inner thigh and just below his balls. Tim whined and nodded yes again, squeezing his grip in Dick's hair as if to emphasize. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart," Dick continued. "Tell me to fuck you good and hard, and that's what I'll do," he whispered.

"Fuck me," Tim gasped. "Fuck me, Dick, fuck me please."

Dick's devious eyes flashed up at the younger hungrily. "As you wish," he hummed before sacrificing his self-pleasuring hand to use both for spreading Tim's cheeks and sucking greedily at the tight ring of muscle at Tim's entrance. He pressed his tongue firmly forward and dipped it inside, moaning at the whole unique taste and feel of Tim convulsing around him. Tim above him was crying out again as Dick began thrusting his tongue in and out, over and over and sucking hungrily here and there. When Dick's cock started twitching again in desperate agitation, he inserted two fingers inside beside his tongue to help speed the process up. Tim of course gasped and cringed a little around him, but with one quick shift of his hips and careful continuous stretching, Dick didn't even have to stop before Tim was moaning softly again. He added a third digit and began curling and thrusting his fingers mechanically. It took a few seconds of searching, but when he finally heard Tim screech and feel fingernails digging into his scalp,he knew he found the bundle of nerves he was looking for and dubbed Tim ready for fucking. He withdrew his fingers with a throaty groan of complaint from his lover underneath him and gave one last lubricating motion of his tongue before raising to his knees and repositioning the younger boy into his lap.

"Y-you're not going to take off your p-pants all the way?" Tim stuttered as Dick smirked and removed the claws from his hair to pin them above Tim's head with one hand.

"No. I'm going to take you just like this baby," he hummed filthily into Tim's ear. Tim moaned at that and nodded eagerly, spreading his legs as wide as he could. Dick groaned, unable to contain himself anymore at the sight and finally pressed himself in passed the tight ring of muscle inch by inch until he was fully sheathed and Tim's virgin warmth and tightness enveloped him. Tim whimpered for a second and tried to tug his hands out of Dick's grasp, but Dick shook his head and pressed a firm kiss against his lips. "Shhh, baby bird, give it a second," he instructed, caressing the boy's naked hip with his free hand.

Tim whined again and shook his head. "No, fuck, move," Tim hissed through his teeth, bucking his hips up pleadingly for motion. Dick arched his brows in surprise before obliging the boy and pulling out just enough to fuck his way back inside, hard and fast. The pace was rough and unrelenting, but with the way Tim was keening, Dick doubted he minded too much. In fact, quite the opposite, especially when Tim yelped with pleasure as Dick once again found and rammed his prostate. Over and over with each thrust, their skin clapped together desperately. And when Tim's harsh pants became screams of pleasure (he was a screamer, go figure, Dick smirked), Tim actually managed to break his hands free and rake stinging lines down Dick's back just as he toppled over the edge and came all over Dick's chest.

Tim was shuddering and whimpering as he came down, but not even the tight convulsion around him was enough to finish Dick off quite yet. He snarled desperately and hiked Tim's leg up over his shoulder and pinned it there, eliciting a small gasp as Dick fucked so hard he had to brace himself against the head board until finally he was able to release and spill everything he had while still inside Tim. Tim moaned at the feeling as Dick panted above him before he pulled his softening member out and fell to the side in total post coital collapse. Tim was still panting beside him and staring up at the ceiling, hair in complete disarray and sweat in a sheet all across his body. Dick smirked and hummed out a quiet yawn as he pulled his pants up and refastened them lazily. Tim finally turned to look at him, squirming still, undoubtedly at the feeling of the warm liquid still inside him, and closed his eyes with a shiver.

"So...about that payment plan," Tim whispered, voice a little hoarse from the screaming. Dick arched a brow in surprise; he had almost forgotten about that. Almost. But really, why bring it up now?

"What about it?" Dick murmured, letting his eyes drift up to the dark ceiling above so he didn't have to look at Tim while they discussed personal business.

"Originally, I was going to take the payment in full, up front..." he began hesitantly. "But, um..." he paused, biting his lip. Dick rolled his eyes and looked back down toward the boy who was once again...blushing? Oh no.

"I've decided instead that every time we meet up in the next...how long do you want me to do this?"

"Until I decide I have enough information for the tactical advantage," Dick replied with a frown. Where was this going?

"So it could take a while then," Tim nodded his head as if this was some kind of confirmation and shifted himself so that he was above and looking down over Dick. It made Dick tense up a little bit and twitch to reach for his blade. "We're going to meet up every week or every two weeks or whatever...periodically and exchange information," he began with a preparing breath. "I'll tell you what I've learned and you answer every question I ask you fully and truthfully. And-"

"And what?" Dick interrupted in cautious agitation. "Are you adding terms and conditions or something? That wasn't part of the deal."

"I- I know," Tim cleared his throat, red rouge rising again in his cheeks and down his chest. "I just-...technically, there's still a lot of information I could learn about, um...this," Tim gestured down at his naked body and swallowed thickly. That's when Dick connected the dots.

Oh.

"You want to keep fucking me?" Dick rephrased with an amused snort.

Tim chewed his lip hesitantly before squaring off his shoulders and smirking back. He really did learn fast. "I prefer to think of it as another form of information exchange."

"So now I'm paying you with information and sex? I feel like some sort of prostitute," Dick joked sarcastically.

"Process it however you like," Tim shrugged, turning away to snatch his briefs from the floor and slide them back on. Dick snickered at the boy and shook his head.

"You drive a hard bargain, Timmy," he grumbled, though not without a smile. If he could get away with it, maybe he could distract Tim with sex every time and forget about the whole information part of it. Tim had a point when he said seduction was a powerful tool when used properly. Maybe Tim would be a victim of his own words. "But who am I to turn down a good, hard fuck every week from a pretty thing like you?"

"How debonair of you," Tim rolled his eyes cynically as he pulled on the discarded white t-shirt. Ah, there was the Tim he met from Arkham back all too soon. Looks like he'd have to fuck him harder next time. "When do I start?"

"Well, we still need to buy you clothes for a disguise and come up with an undercover story," Dick listed thoughtfully.

"Obviously," Tim yawned, stretching languidly and wincing when he tried to walk forward to retrieve the jumpsuit. Maybe he fucked him harder than he thought...

"That and if you're going to seduce the Hood, you probably shouldn't do it with hickies all over you," Dick grinned ferally.

"What?" Tim snapped as he pulled the lower half of his jumpsuit on, leaving the top half to hang lifelessly as he launched himself over toward the mirror for inspection. Low and behold, the dark bruises were already showing themselves on display high up on his throat and littering down to his collar bone. "Jesus, if you do this while I'm supposed to be Hood's play toy, you'll get me killed," he snapped sorely, rubbing the hickies tenderly on his neck. Dick laughed carelessly and rolled his eyes.

"You weren't exactly complaining, Timmy. And by the way," he added in as a reminder, "I'm not the one who added sex to the payment plan."


	4. Chapter 4

December 17th, 3:14 a.m. in Gotham City.

Forecast: Cloudless for once in her life, but there was still not a star in sight. Stars didn't exist underneath the smoke and smog and the dirt. And tonight it was cold. More than cold, it was fucking freezing, even underneath the leather and kevlar armor. He could taste it in every half-filtered breath he took through his Hood. It wasn't snowing tonight, but it had snowed enough the last week for the sidewalks to be littered with sooty gray slush and black ice dotting the roads here and there. The skyscrapers were dotted with bright lights toward downtown and he could see glimpses of Christmas trees through apartment complexes peeking through all the way toward the Cathedral, which was shining bright as it always did this time of the year. If he closed his eyes, Hood could almost hear the soft melody of Christmas carols... but when he opened them again, he knew it was just a trick of the wind.

It was quiet tonight. Far too quiet in his opinion, he decided as another bought of icy wind bit mercilessly at him atop the dark rooftop. He had caught a glimpse of Batman earlier in the night...watched him out of sheer boredom. But even the Bat seemed to decide it was quiet enough to retire just after 1. Usually the vigilante was out until just before the break of dawn, like himself, but this night on December 17, it was dead quiet. One of the rare occasion that he'd likely not see again for a very long time.

Gotham, though still twinkling and bristling with life of the night, slept; or the crime did anyway. Red Hood cracked his stiff neck and sighed, half expecting a light puff of air if it weren't for his helmet blocking the way, and decided that maybe it was time to retire himself for the night. He quickly stifled a yawn and bound easily off the ledge. It was amazing that this simple feat used to make his legs burn and buckle when he thudded a landing on the ground, but now the act was practically second nature; he didn't even blink as his feet his the pavement; he didn't miss a beat before he walked on, shoving his gloved hands in his jacket pockets as he made his way to his bike, hidden three blocks over in a private storage unit. He didn't bother to be silent; he actually enjoyed the echoing thud of his footsteps in the alley, and there was no one around to skulk at him anyway. Even if there was, one look at the bright red helmet would send them running right back the other way. Red Hood wasn't scared of Gotham. Red Hood thrived in Gotham. If anything, Gotham feared hi-

"Hel-lo Gorgeous," he muttured aloud as the vision of a lithe little silhouette strolled absently around the corner up ahead. He couldn't see him very well, but he could tell that the boy was freezing by the way he was hunched over and holding his arms close to his chest and trying like hell not to shiver. He could also tell that the generic red hoodie was disheveled and laying crooked on his shoulders, almost like it was about to fall off, and the jeans (goddamn the jeans) were tight on him,but hanging just low enough around his hips for his occupation to suddenly become clear. He was a male hooker. What was a hooker doing out this late? It was almost 4, they usually called it quits by now to get out of the cold. Well... to be fair, he could see the boy start to sway a bit on the spot after he stopped walking, and after a couple of seconds fall over completely against the cold alley wall and sink out of sight behind a stack of cardboard boxes.

What was that about? Was he too drunk to find his way home? Or maybe...one of his clients drugged him. Hood scowled underneath his helmet and felt his hands clench at his side. Did he have a pimp? If so, pimps knew his rules, this boy should have been carefully watched. But if he didn't have a pimp, even the toms of the town fucking knew better. But then again...maybe his client had just been one hell of a lay. Should he go to him and ask if he needed help? It wasn't every day the Red Hood just popped by and scared the living hell out of the prostitutes. Patronize them on a rainy day, perhaps (usually with one hell of a tip, too. Red Hood wasn't skimpy on tips), but this was new altogether. But then...he did have a soft spot for the call girls and boys of the city. He knew their pain, he wasn't a fool. If that didn't finally stop him from hesitating, the new sound of soft,barely there crying from behind the dingy boxes definitely did. Something was wrong, he had to help.

Red Hood sighed in defeat and treaded intently down the alleyway toward the weeping. He didn't bother to hide his footsteps, so it wasn't a surprise when he heard a small gasp and the immediate halt to the crying. He sighed and stepped underneath the alley light, stopping just beside the boy and looking down.

The poor kid was staring up at him with wide, heart breaking blue eyes that stared between a plastered mop of dirty black hair. He could see the heavy make up around his eyes and whatever he had previously on his lips was smudged almost completely off at this point (which Hood tried not to think about). There were dark hickies littering his neck and collar from what he could see, which wasn't much since he was curled pathetically against the wall for warmth. He was pale and skinny and Hood immediately took pity on him. He tilted his head and placed a hand on his hip thoughtfully as he looked down at the boy.

"R-Red Hood," the boy squeaked in awe or fear. Red Hood didn't mind, he was used to having this effect on people. "I-" the boy bit his lip, as though he didn't know what to say. "I can't- do you want me to-"

"No," Hood interjected before the boy could even think about it. He could see the obvious blush on the kids cheek as he muttered a quick "Sorry," to which Hood passively shook his head. "Any other night, maybe, but right now you should be at home. Why are you out this late? Who was your last client?" The boy blinked in shock and seemed to freeze in hesitation. That's understandable, confidentiality was key in his line of work. "Nevermind, forget it. Just...are you okay? Can you get home from here?" he amended quickly, cursing himself for sounding like a mumbling idiot. He was the Red Hood for Christ's sake.

At that, the boy seemed to well up and choke as he turned his face away. "I- I'll be okay."

"You didn't answer my question," Hood insisted with a hard tone. The boy flinched and whimpered ever so softly before looking up at him like some kind of sad, shaggy, blue eyed puppy.

"I-...was evicted from my place two nights ago," he finally admitted in shame, tucking a lock of long, dirty black hair behind his ears and turning away. Poor guy could use a shower...and probably a good, greasy buffet to put some food in his belly. "I- I was with a client earlier and ...all he did was shove cheap alcohol down my throat and refuse to pay me after. I was supposed to have enough for a ch-cheap motel room, but he said if I didn't g-get out he'd kill me," the boy explained miserably before letting his head fall against the wall behind him with a soft thud.

"Oh," Hood replied blankly, shifting his weight uncomfortably. Okay...maybe if he gave the kid enough money for a room?

"Don't even think about it, I don't need your charity," the boy snapped, reading his mind in the silence.

Red Hood snorted at the sudden outburst. "Don't you?" he retorted challengingly, to which the boy's fierce expression faltered and he sighed miserably once again. "You're starving and you're going to freeze to death if you stay out here," Hood frowned in disapproval. "Do you really wanna die like this at your age? How old are you anyway?" he asked with an almost exasperated gesture.

The boy shrugged and mumbled under his breath what sounded suspiciously like 18. "You're barely legal and you're already in the shit hole of your life. Jesus, kid," he cursed, reaching up to scratch his head, befuddled, before he remembered he had his helmet on. "Shit. Alright, what's your name?"

"What? Why?" the kid furrowed his brows immediately in confusion and distrust.

"Because I don't just help anybody. What's your name?" he insisted, kneeling down to stare directly into his eyes.

The boy hesitated uncomfortably before seeming to steel himself and grit his teeth. "My name is Tim D-...Jackson," he offered quietly. Well, he couldn't blame the guy for giving him a false last name. That was understandable. "Tim Jackson. And you are?" he arched a brow with a challenging smirk. Hood laughed in disbelief and shook his head. "Prince of Gotham, at your service. You call me Hood unless I tell you otherwise."

"That's no fair," Tim pouted, crossing his arms. At least he had cheered up a bit.

"I'm a crime lord, kid. Fair isn't in my job description," Hood shrugged indifferently, standing and offering a hand up, which Tim accepted while rolling his eyes.

"Fine. Jerk. Do I get money or what?" he sniped. Hood chuckled at the abrasiveness and shook his head.

"Hold it, Timbo. I'm not just going to give you cash. I don't know what kind of drugs you may or may not buy-"

"But I don't-" Tim interrupted before Hood crossed his arms firmly and rendered the boy silent.

"Save it. I'll help you out, buy you a meal and give you a place to stay, but I'm not just going to give you a stack of money," Hood grunted, tapping his fingers against his arms non-chalantly.

"So...what are you gonna do then, your highness?" Tim grimaced sarcastically. Hood didn't answer right away and took the moment to bite his lip and think about it. What was he going to do? The guy was homeless and hungry and it was one thing to be a prostitute...you do what you have to to get by. But this...this wasn't even getting by in Hood's book. And Tim never mentioned anything about a pimp, so he had no help. He was completely on his own.

"I can give you a job." The words were out of his mouth before he was even aware he had the idea. He was glad for the helmet at this point, he knew he looked surprised at himself. It was nothing compared to the look on Tim's face though. His jaw fell slack and his eyes were wide as saucers, darting between him and every which way around them as if someone was going to jump out and tell him he'd been punked. After a moment of consideration, Tim closed his eyes and bit his lip.

"What kind of job?" he hesitated.

"Relax, it's not like that. I could use an assistant. You have no idea how much crap I have to sort through on a daily basis. No idea," he shook his head as if remembering a nightmare that resembled some form of criminal paperwork. "You don't have to spread your legs for anybody if you don't want to, you can stay in one of my apartments until you find your own place, you can go anywhere you like anytime you want, but if I call you at any time, it's your job to answer and do whatever I say for you to do."

"That's..." Tim blinked, almost speechless as he shook his head. "That's...awfully generous of you," he finally struggled out through a suspicious glare.

"No, it's really not. I don't think you understand; if I call you at 5 in the morning and tell you I want you to pick up some take out for me, you're going to do it. If I take you with me to a private meeting and tell you to break someone's fingers, you break their fingers. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to drive, you drive. If I tell you to shut the fuck up or file my paperwork-"

"Alright, alright, I get it. I'm your personal slave, yes Master," he mocked in exasperation, but Hood could see the hint of a smile. Crazy kid, was he actually considering this? And did he just call him master?

"Jesus," Hood whistled in disbelief, hiding the twinge of pleasure. Tim smirked and crossed his arms, shivering once again and a gust of cold wind blew through his clothes.

"So...you're not going to ask me to suck your dick or anything?" Tim's smirk fell into an honest, prodding expression. Hood, even underneath the mask, was completely poker faced.

"No. But I wouldn't say no if you asked, hot stuff," he half joked, laughing even harder when he saw the boy flush brightly. "Seriously though, you're not required to do any of that. Just answer when I call you, do whatever I ask, and don't ask personal questions. Capiche?"

Tim groaned in hesitation and bit his lip. He bounced on the balls of his feet and pulled his jacket closer around him as he shivered again. "Come on, I don't have all night," Hood insisted. "And I don't think you wanna freeze to death so what's it gonna be?"

Tim gave him a cynical look before sighing and ruffling his dirty hair in exasperation. "Fine. When do I-"

"Right now. Follow me," he gestured without another word as he continued walking on through the alley way. Tim stared after him, blinking in shock before bounding after him in a hurry.

"You, um...you never mentioned what you were gonna pay me," Tim mumbled breathlessly behind him as he tried to keep up with Red Hood's long strides. Red Hood snorted in front of him before stopping by a series of small storage warehouses and cutting around a corner.

"I'll deposit the money into your account every week," Hood replied, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket.

Tim frowned and stopped. "I don't- I don't have an account," he informed. Red Hood paused in front of him a little ways and turned back to face him.

"Then make one," he ordered before turning back and continuing quickly down the row of storage units until at last he stopped in front of one and unlocked it without a hitch. The metal door slid up with a loud screech before Tim stood in awe just staring at what was inside. Hood looked over and smirked down at him underneath his helmet.

"Wow," was all Tim was able to muster in admiration. "Wait do I have to ride on that?" Hood laughed as he threw a leg over his beloved bike and turned to pat the seat behind him.

"You scared, Timmy?" Hood mocked. Tim stuck out his nose in defiance and stormed forward to follow Hood's example and throw a leg over the seat. He shivered again, but Hood suspected it wasn't from the cold this time. He smirked and fired up the engine before turning back one last time to yell "Hold on tight!" before speeding away into the night, with no one to see them go except a pair of bright yellow, gleaming eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Tim had never ridden a motorcycle before. He never once imagined that his first time would be pressed front to back against the Red fucking Hood's sleek leather jacket, clutching his arms around the man's waist for dear life as they flew through the streets. The wind whipped against his cheeks and stung his eyes enough to produce blistering tears, but he blinked them back determinedly so he could keep his eyes wide open; he wasn't going to miss a thing. Not the way the lights blended together in streaks as they passed, not the shrill squeak of tired as Hood circled a corner or jumped a ramp on the way down the central expressway, and definitely not the sharp smell of metal and smoke while he pressed his cheek against the man's back. But then...he never imagined he'd unmask the Batman, either. He never imagined hiding away in the farthest corner of an asylum for three whole years and he'd never imagined an insane mutated assassin to pike his interest enough to convince him to seduce a psychopathic crime lord.

The whole thing was...electrifying, like lightning in his veins. He'd learned years ago that it was just the effect of a temporary adrenaline high, except that in this particular context, it had lasted two straight days. Hanging out and fucking assassins and crime lords definitely had some kind of chemical effect... Almost better than the hallucinogenic drugs he'd been injected with behind the white, padded walls. And the funny part?

He hadn't even touched Hood yet. The adrenaline rush that was his mission was only just getting started.

He hasn't seen his face, he doesn't know his name, he doesn't even know how to approach the subject of sex. At least the man had given him a live-in job so he'd have time to learn the man's habits and behaviors enough to figure it out.

Oh god... he was going to be living with the Red Hood. He was going to unlock and cozy up to and then betray the most dangerous man in the city -well, second most dangerous, he reminded himself as he remembered piercing yellow eyes and sharp teeth against his neck-. The dispute between the two was terrifying to think about and now he was directly in the middle of it, like dancing on the edge of a knife. Dick was right, he was probably going to die by one hand or another.

If he failed to win over the Red Hood -and he might, since no personal questions were allowed and the man was as guarded as Alcatraz-, then Dick would surely dispose of him without a second thought. Then again...look how easily Red Hood had trusted him enough to give him a job a a live-in assistant? If he succeeded, though... if he ever slipped up once, if Red Hood ever discovered his secret...he was dead where he stood. It was like playing Russian Roulette with five bullets and one blank instead of the other way around.

He had to be careful. He had to control the situation, he had to keep these psychos pacified and under his thumb. But Tim couldn't help but laugh the second he though that; control was the last thing he had right now on the back of Hood's motorcycle speeding away into the darkness of God-knows-where, not knowing what was going to happen. And he hadn't exactly shown much control with Dick the other night either. How was he supposed to control the criminal masterminds when he could barely control himself or the situation he had gotten himself into?

"You okay back there, kid?" Hood shouted from the front over the freezing wind. Tim snapped his head up immediately and offered what he hoped looked like a shy smile.

"I'm sorry! I've just never ridden a bike before," he called back, willing his cheeks to warm with a blush against the cool air.

"Ha! No wonder you're gripping me tighter than death. Don't worry, we're almost there."

"Huh?" Tim couldn't help but tilt his head in confusion as he took in their surroundings once more. They were pulling into an underground parking garage now, slowing to a creepy crawl though the aisles of vehicles.

"Why are we-"

"You'll see," Hood cut him off with an audible smirk as he pulled the bike into the farthest, darkest corner possible and cut the engine off. There was only two other vehicles back here: an old, blue Buick that didn't look too conspicuous and the other was hidden underneath a car sheet. Hood didn't seem to pay them any mind as let Tim safely climb off. Tim shuffled his feet anxiously before finally, Hood stood up and released the lock on his helmet with a soft hiss of breath. Tim inhaled sharply and watched, not even daring to blink. He hadn't even thought about what Hood might look like underneath the helmet; was he old? Did he have some kind of scar he was trying to hide? Was he just another average, run of the mill human being? Did he have terrifying yellow eyes that pierced into a man's soul? That last one probably wasn't the case, honestly, because there weren't many mutated Talons in the world. Red Hood was undoubtedly completely human. But the other questions still stood. What exactly was he in for with this guy?

Hood looked over and snorted softly at him from underneath the loosened helmet. "Go on, you're allowed to gawk. Everyone does," he permitted as he pulled it clean over his head to reveal a rough smirk. It really wasn't fair, was the first comprehensible thought that ran through Tim's head. Psychopaths shouldn't be allowed to be so goddamn attractive. Hood wasn't the same kind of attractive as Dick had been; Dick was sharp and sleek to look at, just like the dual blades he wore on his back. His face was ironically angelic to behold, with the black of his suit tight enough to throw his sex appeal in your face; Dick flaunted himself really. But Hood...he was something else entirely.

The face underneath the mask was rough and masculine; he had a hard jaw littered with stubble and a heavy set brow line that defined clear green eyes (which was something of either a shock or a relief after escaping the piercing yellow ones). His hair was shorter than Dick's, though just at dark. It was cropped in the back and just long enough in the front, Tim presumed, to slick back underneath the helmet only to fall carelessly against his forehead now that it was off. He had dark circles under his eyes probably from lack of sleep and (lord help Tim for looking so quickly) chapped lips to hell. He wasn't the flawless, untouchable kind of beauty that Dick was; he was a harder, rougher kind of attractive. To put it simply, the guy was hot. Tim couldn't tell how old he was, but he seemed relatively young; younger than he ever thought the Red Hood could possibly be. How was that possible?

"You're-" Tim struggled to find words.

The man rolled his eyes humorously and cradled the helmet in one arm. "Still the most dangerous man in the city, don't forget," he arched a brow in warning and amusement. Tim shut his mouth instantly as Hood turned and strode right over to the Buick. He yanked the door open with a loud metallic screech (the poor thing needed to be oiled), but Hood paid it no mind as he pulled out an old faded backpack before slamming the door shut and walking back to Tim.

"Did you just- that's someone's car," Tim voiced, only for Hood to laugh gruffly at him. Oh. Right. It didn't matter who's car it was, Hood was the king of the city and he did what he wanted. He cursed himself for being such an idiot.

"These are all my cars, actually," Hood explained as he set the backpack on the motorcycle and unzipped it intently. "I own the garage. Well, thissection of it anyway," he explained as he pulled out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. "I can come in as the Red Hood into a private section and walk out as a regular civilian and no one ever knows."

"Oh," Tim blinked, surprised. That was...clever. Very clever. And- oh- Oh, he had shucked off his leather jacket and had started unstrapping his armor underneath. Tim blushed and looked away, but couldn't help sneaking a peak. Hood saw and chuckled softly, but otherwise paid him no mind. He didn't seem to care, apparently, whether or not Tim watched him dress. That was another difference between him and Dick; Dick liked to put on a show and entice everyone who looked at him. This guy gave no fucks, Tim realized as Hood pulled off the complex kevlar and replaced it with the plain black T. Next came the cargo pants, which Tim did look away for, out of respect, while Hood replaced them with the faded jeans. In less than a minute, the man balled up the cargo pants and the armor and threw them in the backpack along with the helmet before zipping it up and re-donning the jacket once more.

"So...so these are your cars?" Tim forced out, trying to make conversation. At least Dick was a chatterbox; he felt like he was walking on eggshells with Hood. "I get the hot rod, but why a shitty Buick?"

Hood perked up and grinned at that. "You know cars?"

"A little," Tim shrugged. The man laughed.

"The Buick is my civilian car, when I need to go to the grocery store or don't feel like walking," he hummed with glee.

"Right. Okay. So what's under the sheet?" Tim asked curiously. Red Hood's eyes glinted dangerously.

"That's my baby," he replied mysteriously. "If you last until my next meeting, you'll get to see her," he added before beckoning Tim forward as he shouldered the backpack and turned to walk out.

"Well, that's...nice of you...I guess," Tim mumbled, troubled. If he lasts? What the hell?

"Oh, don't be so broody," Hood smirked. "Nearly all of my assistants have survived."

"Nearly?" Tim grimaced.

"One of them decided she was going to try and slit my throat while I slept," Hood answered indifferently. "Talked into it by Black Mask. You can guess what happened to her," Hood finished darkly as they passed into the public parking section.

"Is that a threat?" Tim asked quietly.

"Interpret it how you will," Hood shrugged. "Just know that I don't take kindly to traitors."

Tim suppressed a shiver and nodded, casting his eyes to the ground. Yeah, he was definitely dead. He could only pray Hood didn't find out before Talon got to him. "So what happened to the ones who didn't fuck up?"

Hood stopped in his tracks and turned to really look at Tim and take him in. It took him a second to stir again, but finally he responded simply "They either left the city or earned a spot on my payroll."

"Right," Tim chewed his cheek skeptically. "I'll keep that in mind." What an unpredictable man to know. They were silent for the next few minutes as they walked under the florescent lights of the garage, leaving Tim to dwell on his thoughts until they finally emerged out onto the street. They were surrounded by apartment complexes packed so close together that it was no wonder they needed a parking garage; there was hardly any room left for cars with so many buildings jammed together. Tim hummed in surprise.

"And here I pictured you flaunting your wealth in some kind of penthouse or something," Tim joked. Hood scoffed beside him and elbowed him lightly.

"Who do you think I am? Some idiotic bureaucrat like Drake or Wayne?" Tim winced at the names, but otherwise just shrugged in feign ignorance. "I like that people think that, though. They expect me to be some all powerful gangster like Black Mask or Dent, they'll never think that some guy from the slums controls the entire city."

"Good point," Tim muttered as they crossed the empty street. Hood beckoned him forward to the closest stairwell and immediately began to climb, expecting Tim to follow. They ascended not one, not two, but three whole flights before Hood veered onto a balcony and journeyed four doors down to a ruddy green door with paint peeling at the edges and the bronze number E370 above the knocker was dull and unpolished. This guy laid very low, apparently, Tim thought while Hood fished a small silver key from out of his jacket and hastily unlocked the door.

The inside was something entirely unexpected. The walls were coated with cheap white paint and floored with fake woodstrip floors. The living room was directly attached to a tiny kitchenette and Tim was surprised to discover that the place was completely clean; no dirty dishes, no trash in the bin, not a thing out of place except a stray pizza box and an empty beer bottle that weighed down a newspaper on the tiny dining table. It was un-extravagant and simple, almost void of character, to be honest. But Hood seemed comfortable here, Tim concluded, when he closed the door behind them and bounded forward only to toss the back pack into a corner and sprawl gracelessly on his small couch. Tim really didn't know what to do, so he just stood there shuffling his feet hesitantly and did nothing. Hood noticed him standing there and instantly seemed to remember he had company.

"I'm sorry, kid, my couch was calling my name," he shrugged.

"Yeah, oops," Tim laughed nervously, trying to suppress a grimace. This was the Red Hood. The Red Hood just called him kid... and not for the first time that night. He didn't know whether or not that was a good sign. But he had to keep trying. "You, uh...wanna give me a tour?" he tried shyly, smiling under his lashes in what he hoped was a flirtatious manner.

Hood blinked and smirked at him before pulling himself to his feet. "Fine, fair enough. You do need to see where you'll be sleeping," he nodded to himself as he directed Tim to the hallway on the right.

"Wait, w-what?" Tim stuttered.

"I only have one bedroom," Hood explained, rolling his eyes as he stopped in front of the first of two doors. "And most of the time I sleep on the couch. So congratulations, the room is yours," Jason gestured carelessly to reveal a tiny white bedroom with an unmade bed, a simple brown dresser to the left and oh- jesus, dozens of books. They were placed in stacks on the floor, on top of the dresser, and even scattered across the sheets of the bed. They were old books, dog-eared old things with titles like The Picture of Dorian Grey, Jane Eyre, Sense and Sensibility, The Iliad and the Odyssey, and even a relatively new copy of The Wallstreet Journal. Tim had been wrong about Hood's lack of character. The most dangerous, violent man in the city was some young hunk who enjoyed pizza, beer and reading classic literature. Two days ago, Red Hood was an untouchable legend, and now...well, he progressed from legend to sex god, and from sex god to more unbelievably human than he could ever have imagined. No less incredible by any means, but just...human. He couldn't help but remember he felt the same way when he discovered that Batman was really Bruce Wayne. Only...Bruce Wayne wasn't exactly an average human, was he? Red Hood was.

"Oh, yeah," Hood acknowledged the mess of literature with a thoughtful hum. "I'll have those moved eventually, but if you want-"

"I can't take your room," Tim piped up, interrupting him when the man's voice brought him back to reality. Hood blinked in surprise and arched a brow dangerously. Oh god, did he just offend the goddamn Red Hood's hospitality? "I- I'm sorry, I mean... it's just...too much," he scrambled meekly. Hood laughed and dismissed the case with a wave of his hand.

"Forget it. The only thing I ever come in here for is clothes. I've already read and re-read all the books and I don't get a lot of sleep," Hood reasoned impassively. "And don't worry," he grinned almost ferally, making Tim shiver. "The sheets are clean."

Regardless of how much he really wanted to protest, he didn't dare say no again. "Thank you," he elected instead, closing his eyes and blushing in resignation.

Hood didn't reply, he just grunted in acknowledgement and walked back down towards the living room. "Bathroom's directly across from the bedroom. If you're hungry, I have food in the fridge. Make yourself at home," Hood called back before visibly flopping back down on the couch with a heavy groan.

Fuck...he wasn't doing a fantastic job of seducing the guy. He kept...not exactly not responding, but...not exactly responding in the way Tim had hoped either. The tour was brief and court and the suggestive joke was a good sign, but...he left in a hurry, too. Maybe he was just being respectful? Afterall, Tim was supposed to be in a tender state right now. Or maybe...Tim was just really, really bad at seduction. God damn nerves. Or maybe the guy just didn't give a fuck. Maybe Dick had been wrong and Tim wasn't his type-

Dick. Tim shivered when he remembered the yellow eyes again, and the way they devoured him when he pinned him against the wall, or traced his long, dangerously soft fingers over his skin.

He felt himself twitch down below before shaking his head and sucking in a deep breath. He could do this. Just like Dick showed him. With one last dose of resolve, he trudged his feet forward and carried himself into the living room where Hood was still lounging on the couch lazily after a long night. He stopped at the man's feet and his breath caught in his throat at the sight. Hood had one leg thrown over the arm of the couch and the other bent comfortably propped up on a pillow against the cushions. He had one hand placed carelessly behind his head and the other holding a lit cigarette to his lips as he took a drag, making the tip flare red before he pulled it away and blew the smoke back out absently. It was one of the hottest things Tim had ever seen -which said a lot since he had seen Dick naked- and Tim found himself staring helplessly as Hood repeated the process two more times; inhaling, holding the smoke in like he cherished it and then blowing it back out at him with smoldering green eyes... Green eyes that he didn't realize until jut now were staring at him with something of a thoughtful, maybe even amused smoulder.

"Were you going to say something, or...?" Hood asked as he exhaled another smoky breath. Jesus, the cigarette was almost gone now and Tim caught himself hoping that Hood would smoke it just a little bit slower. He had no idea Red Hood smoked...or that smoking could look so fucking hot. But this crazy psychopath sprawled out on the couch so casually with his worn socks and his light happy trail peeking out underneath his black t-shirt and his stupid mesmerizing glare made it downright mouthwatering.

"I-," Tim's mouth was unfairly dry and he had to take an extra moment to swallow. "I want to thank you," Tim murmured quietly as a plan began to form in his head.

"Oh?" Hood removed the hand behind his head in favor of pushing himself up slightly so he could better smirk at Tim.

"Yeah," Tim nodded, decisively taking a slow step forward. Red Hood's green eyes steadily began to lower over Tim's body and Tim knew he was being sized up. He hoped Hood liked what he saw. "I wanna-... I wanna repay you for the favor," he insisted quietly, taking another step. Hood took one last drag of his cigarette before reaching toward the ash tray and snuffing it out. His eyes seemed to burn with an unknown fire that Tim didn't know what to make of.

"If you're doing this because you feel obliged-" Hood began but Tim shook his head and Hood cut himself off.

"I'm not," Tim assured, sinking to his knees beside the man's head. Now that he was close enough, he could hear the man's abnormal breathing and see the way his eyes grew darker by the second. Good. "We're both consenting adults, aren't we?" Tim murmured, dropping his voice to a low whisper, just like Dick taught him. "Exchanging sex for things is what I do for a living. And let me tell you, I love my job," Tim smiled sharply behind the lie. "But why can't I just fuck for the sake of fucking?" he asked innocently. Hood snorted at that and rolled his eyes, but Tim wasn't going to allow time for thinking; he grabbed Hood's chin and forced him to turn back so he could capture his lips with a hungry groan. Hood seemed to be taken by surprise for just a moment before he registered what was going on and returned the kiss full force.

Kissing the Red Hood was astronomically different than kissing Dick had been; Dick had been teasing and light and never in one place, whereas Red Hood was all teeth and aggression. Tim was almost struggling to keep up with him, to be honest, but Hood didn't seem to mind all that much. In fact, Hood seemed to get even more into it by yanking Tim up to have him straddle his lap and then deepen the kiss.

Another difference between his two psychopathic lovers, Tim noticed, was that Dick was very pristine about the way he kissed and performed. Red Hood...not so much. He was sloppy and messy , but damn he was hot while he did it, all feral and handsy while he devoured Tim's mouth with his own. At least Tim didn't have to feel too stressed out that he wasn't very experienced anymore. Still, he'd like to be. He wanted to impress this guy and let him know that he wasn't any ordinary lay; he wanted to have Red Hood in the palm of his hand.

Literally.

The idea hit him instantaneously at that thought; he wasted no time in shimmying down Red Hood's body until he was level with the man's crotch to press an warm, open mouth kiss against the denim covering. Hood hissed and clenched a hand roughly into his hair in encouragement, making Tim smile as he kissed it again, this time pressing the flat of his tongue where he felt the tip of the other's cock. Hood keened quietly above him and Tim felt his hips twitch underneath him. Tim felt his cheeks burn hotly, but this time, for once, with desire instead of virgin embarassment. He stopped licking just long enough to slip a hand up to undo Hood's fly and tug the hems down to reveal red boxer-briefs and a rather prominent bulge underneath. Tim immediately bent his head and hummed as he nuzzled along the shaft and mouth wetly at the tip, earning a jerk of Hood's hips beneath him. He felt the hand in his hair tighten its grip urgently, making it very clear Hood didn't want to wait. Tim, ever willing to oblige, pressed his fingers underneath the elastic waistband and at last managed to tug the underwear down to meet the jeans and then press both of them down past his knees.

At this point, Tim did hesitate for a moment; not because he didn't know what to do -well, maybe that was a little bit the case- but mostly it was just to admire the view. Hood was pale and creamy complexioned, even underneath the carefully trimmed and sculpted bout of dark pubic hair (which was a new addition, since Dick had been completely bare. He wasn't quite as long as Dick had been, either, but he was considerably thicker. Tim shuddered as he imagined what that monster would feel like inside of him, but he shook his head and banished the fantasy away before he could forget what he was trying to do. He bent his head down to nuzzle gently at the course lining of hair, and actually found that he enjoyed the way it brushed against his lips. He also took the opportunity to nose his way down and mouth hungrily at Hood's balls.

"Fuck," Hood cursed above him, massaging his fingers absently against Tim's scalp, lost to the feeling. Tim smirked and sucked greedily this time, but the man had already regained control of his reactions. Fuck was right, Tim thought as he softened up and pressed a trail of light kisses up to the man's throbbing shaft. This was one of the hottest things he'd ever experienced, and he wasn't even on the receiving end right now.

Tim groaned darkly as his tongue met the base of Hood's cock. He licked a thick stripe all the way up the underside experimentally and felt Hood shiver underneath him. Tim allowed himself to look up at the man and discovered the elder's head was lolled to the side, eyes closed in pleasure and his lips parted just enough to let heavy shallow breaths escape him. Tim swallowed thickly and shifted his own hips at the sight before bending his head back down with renewed vigor and taking the head of Hood's cock into his mouth with a groan at the way it tasted. He heard the man's breath hitch above him and Tim took it as a cue to work his tongue attentively while he pressed himself further down. Hood jerked his hips and Tim felt the hand in his hair loosen and move to press encouragingly against his neck to guide him.

Tim bobbed his head with pleasured little moans, amazed at himself at how much he loved this. It turned him on so much that he had to fight not to shove his hand down his own pants for relief. Instead, he settled with grinding his own hips against the couch cushions in time with his pace on Red Hood. Tim could hear Hood's breath steadily speeding up and with each passing moment jerk his hips uncontrollably before reigning himself back in. Tim hummed at that, since smiling was impossible, to which Red Hood's eyes shot open to stare darkly, ferally at him, making Tim's whimper and grind himself harder against the cushions. Hood hissed in pleasure and, all of a sudden, Tim felt the grip on his neck tighten just before Hood started thrusting into Tim's mouth. Tim whined in surprise at first before closing his eyes in pleasure as he let the man manhandle him. It gave him time to unsnap his own pants and finally -God- take himself in hand and jack off furiously.

In a matter of moments, Tim was coming into his own hand with a muffled cry of relief, which in turn seemed to make Hood choke and pull out just in time to spill onto Tim's cheek. Both were left collapsed and panting messily against each other in a post coital buzz. For a while, neither of them bothered to move. In fact, it wasn't until the cum on his hand and cheek began to cool and feel very, very sticky that Tim even thought of moving. He sighed contently and pushed himself up, taking one last appreciative look at Hood's partially naked body before clmbing off the couch completely. Hood watched his every move with a lazy, complacent stare.

"Are you going to do that every time you want to thank me?" he smirked still a little breathlessly. Tim arched a brow and offered a cynical smile.

"Don't count on it," he lied easily, moving to the kitchen to wipe his face and wash his hands. Hood snorted at that and pulled his jeans back up around his waist quickly.

"I don't suppose I could borrow your shower?" Tim asked, stretching languidly before padding back into the living room to face Hood.

"Help yourself," Hood shrugged, making himself comfy on the couch and pulling out another cigarette. "Towels are underneath the sink, use whatever soap you want. But don't use my goddamn toothbrush," he barked warningly, making Tim want to laugh.

"Sure thing," Tim rolled his eyes in amusement.

"Oh, and hey," Hood interrupted as Tim began to walk back toward the hall.

"Hmm?"

"Grab me a beer from the fridge, will you?" he asked over the sound of his lighter flicking to life. Tim simply rolled his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

"Fuck," the boy whined underneath him. "Fuck, fuck."

""Hood seems to be rubbing off on you," Dick commented coolly as he pounded into Tim with a rough clap of flesh. "You're swearing more and more each time I see you." Tim mewled into the pillows and simply arched his bare ass higher for Dick to continue taking. "Are you this desperate whenever he's fucking you?" Dick smirked breathlessly, spreading Tim's cheeks and groping them roughly. "Or is it just for me?"

Tim, the cheeky little shit, actually managed a muffled laugh, which really shouldn't have been as hot as it was considering he was gripping the sheets for dear life and flushed a deep shade of red. "Actually, he's the loud one, believe it or not. I'm quiet compared to h- oh," Tim cut off with a keen as Dick rammed into the small bundle of nerves deep inside him.

"Interesting," Dick pulled his lips back into a humored, imaginative smirk. To have the most dangerous, powerful man in the underworld of Gotham groaning and just begging for more, all thick and uncut inside him while his fingernails bit into his thighs - Heh. No one could say he didn't have a vivid imagination. If only he could picture his face; Tim says it's rough looking and stern, but with a wild look that could make anyone feel alive. Green eyes, dark hair, stubble on his cheek...oh, and broad shoulders, a muscular back, hands that could either snap his neck or make him cum just by touching him- Dick shuddered at the thought and sped up in desperation. If Tim could keep his head bent down just like that, Dick could almost picture it. But, unfortunately, with a sharp, overwhelmed whimper below him, Tim convulsed and simply collapsed in a heap. Dick grunted in annoyance at having his rhythm thrown off and found himself sadly ripped away from what would have been a pretty fantastic orgasm. He could have kept going and climaxed anyway, but at this point, the illusion was dead, so whatever. He pulled slowly out of Tim, still a little slick before wiping himself off on the sheets and leaning with an unimpressed scowl against the wall.

Tim shivered by himself less than a foot away for a number of countless minutes; in fact, Dick was actually starting to shift in impatience before the boy finally sighed and pulled himself up to sit cross-legged in front of Dick.

"Finally," Dick grunted, shoving himself off the wall and leaning forward. "What have you got for me this time, baby?" he amended sweetly after seeing the stricken, almost...hurt look on Tim's face at his brashness. Poor thing... if only Dick had the pity to care. It wasn't his problem if the boy got his feelings hurt, this was the big leagues and he knew better.

"You don't have to act like I'm such a chore," Tim scoffed coldly. Dick rolled his eyes indifferently. "If you don't want to fuck, you're an adult; you can just say no."

"Please," Dick snorted, leaning to one side on his hand. "Then what would you do for a piece of ass?"

"Easy; I have a hot mob boss for a roommate who won't tell me no," Tim replied smugly without missing a beat. Dick had to bite back a twinge of irritation (he wasn't jealous of the brat. He wasn't), but he had to admit that the little shit got him on that one. That is what he hired him for, after all.

"Regardless," Dick shifted to cross his legs impatiently. "I believe it's time for an update. What's new? Did you get his name, yet?"

"No," Tim muttered quietly. Great, Dick thought in disappointment; it's been six weeks, what's the hold up? "He doesn't answer personal questions and he gets suspicious every time I do. He'll stop talking to me and disappear for days on end, I told you that," Tim sighed warily.

"Have you followed him?" Dick asked, piking up curiously.

"No, stupid. The last thing I need is to get caught dogging Hood if he's already suspicious of me. These things take time, you'll just have to be patient," Time scolded with a frown.

"Then what do you have for me?" Dick snapped irritably.

Tim almost flinched, but steeled himself and stuck out his chin haughtily. "He let me go to two of his meetings last week," he smirked smugly.

"What?" Dick's eyes widened and he straightened up immediately.

"There are six major trades going on in the next two weeks; three for automatic firearms, one with some kind of nuclear chemical, one for robotic equipment, and one for forged documents to give to his distributors," he informed, scrunching up his brows as he pulled the information from memory.

"What, no drugs?" Dick smirked jokingly as he scratched his head.

"Actually, the District bosses handle that, they just give him 40%." Dick whistled, impressed at that. Hood really had his shit together, huh?

"So, uh," Dick hummed thoughtfully. "Are any of his trades...tonight?" he asked with an innocent smile.

Tim's eyes went wide before scowling and shaking his head. "Uh uh, no way. If you even think about sabotaging, then I'll-"

"You'll what, sweetheart?" Dick rested his chin on his hand with a challenging expression.

"I-" Tim stuttered before squaring his shoulders intently. "Look, if his business starts crapping out right after he lets me in, he's going to know something's up. I won't last another day if you try anything," he warned urgently. Dick sighed and rolled his eyes dismissively.

"I won't mess up the trades," he promised heavily, even bringing up his right hand in a mock salute.

Tim chewed the inside of his cheek hesitantly. "Well...he's supervising one tonight at midnight by the docks," he admitted slowly. Dick's eyes must have gleamed, because Tim was almost visibly sweating in worry now. "You're not going to- tonight's not the night, is it?"

Dick had to bite back a laugh. "I'm not going to kill him tonight, don't worry about your boyfriend."

Tim scowled indignantly and snapped. "Please, I was only concerned that I'd have to disappear earlier than planned."

"What do you mean, Timmy?" Dick furrowed his brows dangerously and started slowly reaching for one of his swords. "Are you going to ditch out on me?"

"Of course not, we had a deal," Tim rolled his eyes, pretending not to be terrified at Dick's silent ferocity. "But on the day you decide to kill him, don't expect me to be anywhere within a 500 mile radius."

"I'll keep that in mind," Dick retorted coolly, bringing his hand back to rest in his naked lap. Really, though, it was cute that Tim had an escape plan. It was sad that it would never work.

"Great," Tim ended awkwardly. before falling into a tense silence. Dick stared unwaveringly for a while and Tim plain just lost his nerve and stared at the ugly print on the hotel quilt. It was that time now; Strange and lingering and the time that Dick usually kicked Tim into a taxi before he had time to think. Maybe he'd get lucky again tonight.

"Are we done, then, Timmy?" Dick asked coolly, plucking absently at one of the loose threads on the blanket. Tim didn't answer right away. It took him a good minute to actually pluck up the courage before finally meeting Dick's eyes.

"No. Dick...you've been avoiding the subject for six weeks, it's time to hold up your end of the bargain," he demanded softly. For a second, Dick was tempted to reach out and snap the little shit's neck right there. After that moment, though, the feeling sunk right into his stomach and dropped all the way to his toes. Well, fuck.

"Yes," Dick replied unwillingly. He would have said that no, he hadn't been avoiding it, but that would have been a lie. Really, all he did was try desperately to fuck Tim's brains out every time enough to forget about it, but after pissing him off and not really trying today, he shouldn't be surprised. "What would you like to know?"

"Anything you can tell me. Do you want me to question you to death or do you wanna just get it all out?" he offered, stretching out and propping himself up on the pillows. Dick wrinkled his nose and fought the impulse to snarl. Did he take little doses of pain or one long bought to get it all over with?

Fuck it.

"Richard John Grayson... that's my full name my parent's gave me at birth," he started. Might as well start from the beginning. "I was born in Romania 26 years ago, but my parents immigrated here for a better life, which they thought they'd find by joining a circus," Dick rolled his eyes, trying to remain brash and distant.

Tim arched his brows in interest and leaned closer.

"I was raised as an acrobat. I could ride elephants before I could walk and I was taught to juggle like the clowns before I could talk. We, um...we had this show..." he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "My mother, father and I...we were the Flying Graysons," Dick shivered saying it. Even now, he couldn't resist voicing the theatrical flare from the words, which only made saying it more painful.

Tim seemed to gag suddenly his eyes widened inexplicably, which Dick ignored. So he'd heard of them, go figure. "During one of the shows one day, the lines for the trapeze snapped...they fell to their deaths. I watched the whole thing," his explained darkly, flashing back and seeing the look of terror on his mother's face as she fell. "I remember crying all night...I remember not eating for days and telling Haley I didn't want to perform anymore. I remember it like it happened yesterday."

"I was there," Tim squeaked, curling in on himself and appearing smaller than usual to Dick.

"What?"

"I was there," he repeated. "I saw everything, I- oh my god, why didn't I recognize you?" he rocked himself back and forth with his eyes bugged out like crazy. "You did a quadruple flip, just for me... I asked you before the show," he murmured softly, not meeting Dick's eyes. Dick, however, stared in horror at the boy.

"You-..." Holy god. "You're-..." Tim flinched away as Dick scrambled for something to say. "You were...a lot smaller back then," Dick commented with a forced smile, remembering now all too clearly. Tim looked up at him in disbelief.

"You're not- why aren't you freaking out?" he asked in awe.

"Should I be? I spent enough time freaking out back then and every day since. I feel like the novelty's worn off," Dick lied, hiding the tremble in his voice. This boy was there when his parents died...he saw everything. He knows. He understands. They were friends. How the fuck does a person deal with that?

"Oh," Tim nodded gently. "I- I'm so sor-"

"Don't," Dick interrupted and held up a hand to stop him. "Don't do that. It's long since history, alright?" Tim blinked and nodded swiftly.

"Alright, sorry, I just-..." he cleared his throat. "What happened to you?"

Dick grimaced and reached up to scratch his head. "That's the fun part of the story, actually," he began darkly. "Once my parents were gone, I was a useless mess; Hayley sold me to the Court of Owls."

"The...what?" Tim shook his head and blinked through the confusion, obviously never having heard of it.

"The Court of Owls," Dick repeated dully, pulling one knee up to rest his chin on. "A top secret organization. I don't really know what they do, to be honest," Dick frowned thoughtfully. "All I know is they tortured me...every single day for over a decade...and taught me how to kill...how not to feel anything...how to become this," he gestured to himself, trying to hide the disgust. This was getting out of hand, he shouldn't be talking about this.

"What? What...what'd they do to you?" Tim asked skeptically.

"Everything," Dick muttered, glaring hard at nothing. "Name it; beatings, starvation, sleep deprivation, sensory deprivation, water boarding, genetic mutation, forcing me to watch as they mutilated innocent men, women and children and then making me do it," he listed, trying not to remember their screams.

"You- you actually-"

"You knew what I was when you got into this," Dick snapped coolly. "Of course I did it; otherwise, they'd do the same thing to me. Only, they healed me afterwards and threatened to do it all again if I didn't comply," he spat. "I did horrible things to countless people and I had nightmares every single day. I didn't have a choice, this is what I was made to become," he growled dangerously. Tim visibly swallowed and said nothing. Dick took the chance to take a deep breath and steady his heart rate; calm. He needed to calm down. Everything happened for a reason; it was terrible, but if he wanted the nightmares to stay away, he had to remain cold. Nothing mattered; everyone dies eventually. This was who he was; never feeling, never caring, only obedient and merciless. Forget this memory bullshit. Forget Tim Drake. Forget his parents. Just relay the information like promised and make sure Tim Drake never lived to tell the story later.

"That was all years ago," Talon continued coolly, flattening his tone and stretching out to crack his neck. "Now I can see in the dark, I can heal almost as soon as I get injured, and I'm literally the best assassin in the world," he hummed. "Talons always are. There's been generations of us and the world has never even noticed. How cool, huh?"

"You don't want revenge?" Tim asked suddenly, his face unreadable, but his eyes screamed in disbelief. "For what they did to you...you don't want revenge?"

Dick stopped dead. Revenge? No. No, no, no- He felt his limbs start to twitch almost electrically and his mind start to race. He couldn't, he couldn't...they'd destroy him if he even dared. Of course he wanted revenge, but he knew what they'd do. No...he couldn't. He can't.

"No."

Tim exhaled and closed his eyes almost sadly. The poor thing pitied him.

"Right...of course," Tim looked back up with a blank, unreadable expression. "And you know nothing of the Court of Owls other than what they did to you?"

"Yep, that's right hot stuff," Dick smiled dangerously.

"Not even where they are?"

Dick's yellow eye twitched and he clenched his teeth. "Don't you dare ask me that," he hissed threateningly. Tim shut up and actually obliged him for once, lucky for him.

"Anything else you'd like to know?" he asked the boy sweetly, making Tim squirm just a little.

"What happens when you fail a mission?" he asked quietly. "When you don't kill who they want you to?"

Dick stilled and the fake smile melted right off his face. "Can't say. I've never failed," he replied darkly. "They'll either 're-educate' me...torture me and teach me a lesson, or...I'll be out of a job," he hinted subtly. Tim winced and nodded.

"Anything else, or are we done here?" he asked, hoping that Tim realized the question was rhetorical this time.

"No," Tim shook his head quietly. "No, I-...I'm good."

"Same time next week, then, hot stuff?" The change in tone was so instantaneous, it made Dick's head spin. But at least it wasn't sullen and dark anymore. Well...darker than normal, anyway.

Tim forced a smile and coughed out a laugh. "Yeah...yeah...sure thing."

...

Three hours later, Dick was flying.

He was unseen across the rooftops as he just raced across the entire city. He had been raging since Tim left; he had destroyed the hotel room and accidentally (well, maybe on purpose) behead the angry manager who dared to bang on the door and demand that he leave since he was disturbing the other guests.

Fuck Tim for making him go back into the past. Fuck Tim for making him talk. That should have been Tim's head rolling on the carpet.

Well, he reminded himself as he twirled off the edge of a rooftop and landed perfectly on the ground before leaping up to another balcony; he did agree to it, to be fair. It wasn't entirely Tim's fault.

Jesus...

The whole thing made him want to rip someone's throat out or tear something to shreds. He needed to do something, goddamn it, and if that meant flying until he was out of breath and his muscles stung, then so be it. Too bad two and a half hours on the run couldn't do that anymore.

He needed to kill...he needed some kind of thrill, he needed to get his mind back... He needed...

Oh, god, he was in the warehouse district now. He could see the docks less than a mile away; he could see little flashes of lights and hear disgruntled murmurs far below. Tim said Hood had a some kind of deal going on tonight, right?

That meant Hood was here somewhere. That meant the game was on; he could get Hood to play with him.

Immediately, Talon was off creeping and crawling silently through the night. His heart was pounding almost violently in his chest and the excited electricity in his veins was almost maddening. Two more blocks to go...

One more block...

He knew the men couldn't see him, because he blended in with the darkness, but he liked to play in the shadows of a large roof anyway, just for kicks. He could see three men below, centered between two trailer trucks with the ass ends facing each other. There were other men scattered around - guards of some kind for the heavy lifting, he supposed - but the three men in the middle seemed to be the ones deep in a debate.

"Twenty thousand, Mikey, that was the deal."

"I changed my mind. Sixty grand or we walk."

"You know I don't decide that. Hood only gave me twenty-"

Dick scoffed to himself. How petty and predictable.

"Tell you what boys," he grinned, dropping gracefully down to the ground. He could hear dozens and dozens of guns cocking and pointing directly at him. "Here's the new deal; you give your goodies to me and I kill you all for free."

He heard laughter from one of the men standing in the center. He was a fat piece of shit with a thick mustache covering up his mouth to accent his beady eyes. "Look, Donnie, we got a joker."

"Pretty one too, ain't 'e?" his partner, a sickly pale and skinny man with a ratty face and a comb over snickered. "What d'ya say we teach 'im a lesson and put 'im in the truck. 'e'D sell as high as dem girls back home!"

Dick arched a brow and smirked dangerously. "I'm flattered, really. But I'm afraid I'm too high quality for your grubby, disgusting little hands," he smiled smoothly. Both of the men snarled at him, making Dick laugh as he stepped forward. "Go on. Bring it," he dared. The second one of them tried to grab him, Dick's blade was out and the man's hand was severed on the ground and blood was seeping everywhere while the fatso screamed. Dick quickly put a stop to that by shoving his dagger into the man's trachea and dropping him to the ground, choking on his own blood.

Comb-over was next with a slice to the gut and a quick snap to the neck. The third man had already bailed, and Talon really didn't care to go after him; all he cared about was to use Comb-over as a shield from the bullets while he slayed each and every one of the gunmen shooting at him.

He had gotten to four of them before the last eight seemed to come to their senses and start running for their lives. By that time, Talon was absolutely lost in bloodlust. He bared his teeth before launching himself at his seventh victim. Before the man could so much as scream, however, Dick felt someone grab his collar and yank him off violently. Another gunman, it turned out, who now had his AK-47 pointed directly over Talon's face. Talon twisted out and kicked the man's feet out from under him. Before he could protest, Dick was slamming his head into the ground mercilessly until the feet stopped kicking and maybe even a little after that.

Jesus...he'd never raged enough for an overkill like this, he mused to himself, panting as he rose to his feet. He could barely hear the others as they ran for their lives through the alleys of the warehouses back the way he came. Should he chase them down? Did he care enough?

Before he could decide, however, he heard heavy treading footsteps coming toward him. Not frantic ones trying to escape, but sure footed and steady; someone who was unafraid. Dick smiled and sighed almost blissfully as he turned around.

"I was so hoping to see you," he smiled cheerfully over the lifeless corpse below him.

"It's been a while," Hood retorted coolly, just as dangerous and guarded as the first night. "I was wondering when I'd see you again. I have to admit... I didn't picture it like this."

"Like what? Didn't think I was capable of killing?" he played flirtatiously.

"Didn't think you were capable of losing it. You were sloppy," Hood tsked almost sadly, shaking his head. Dick froze and blinked while a cold feeling clenched in his chest. He took another look around at the seven dead bodies strewn across the gravel, with blood streaked across the walls and seeping around everywhere beside the broken bodies. It was...a mess.

"It looks like you had a tantrum," Hood audibly smirked. Dick would give anything to punch the look off his face, if only he could see it.

"Give me a break, it's been a rough day," Dick rolled his eyes. "Keep antagonizing me, I can go for an eighth."

Hood laughed and crossed his arms. "So how'd you know?" his voice cut through the air statically. "This was a private exchange. How did you find us?"

Shit.

"I was running around and I came across those idiots arguing and thought I'd let off some steam," he shrugged passively. It was mostly truthful, though, right?

Hood hummed and cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "So you going to kill me now or are we just dancing again tonight?" Dick smirked, dropping his weapons to show a truce before prancing gracefully step by step until he was directly in front of Red Hood.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a dance, hot stuff," he purred, daring to press a leg between Hood's thighs and breathe down his neck hotly. Hood stiffened and he could feel the man clutch his gun in its holster.

"Now, now, calm down," he murmured, sliding his hands down Hood's sides to take the gun and drop it to the side. "I don't want to kill you tonight," he whispered softly as electricity flooded through his veins in excitement. How long had he had to listen to Tim's stories about Hood fucking him so good he couldn't walk? It felt like too long now; it felt like the perfect solution to this madness. "Maybe next time, but tonight I just wanna get fucked and go home. Pretty please?"

He could hear Hood's breath become shallow and slightly uneven. "You want me to fuck you?" he repeated in disbelief, though not unwillingness that Dick could tell.

"Hard and fast," Dick nodded, rolling his hips against Hood's, where unmistakable proof was that Hood was considering. "On the ground, against the alley wall, wherever you'd like," he purred pleadingly, kissing the sliver of bare skin underneath the Hood's helmet. "Come on...from one killer to another," he grinned. "You have my word I won't take your life tonight. Just your cock," he grinned. Plus he kind of already promised the little shit who's working for him, so Hood had to stay alive just for tonight.

He could hear the man smirk inside the mask before shoving Dick back into a dark alley between warehouses and pressing him against the wall beside three large crates. "You really want to do this?" Hood asked him sternly. Dick snickered and grabbed his hand, leading it seamlessly down to press between his own legs to show just how hard he was right now.

"Fuck me already, will you?" Dick commanded between ragged breaths, pressing his hips needily into Hood's palm. Hood only hesitated for a second before pulling back and pressing the release on his helmet and yanking it off. Dick honestly wasn't expecting that; he sucked in a sharp breath and was only slightly disappointed at the bright red domino mask blocking what he knew to be green eyes. Otherwise, the face was chiseled and hard cut just like Tim said it was, with dark hair hot enough to rival his own.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath before crashing their lips together, almost devouring one another as the helmet clattered forgotten to the ground beside them.

Hood tasted like smoke, whiskey and something sweet, which made Dick press deeper for more. Hood uttered a muffled laugh against Dick's lips and jerked Dick's hips forward eagerly, squeezing his ass and groaning as he did so. Dick smirked when Hood squeezed it again, realizing how perfect it was. Dick was highly aware of just how perfect his ass was; Tim just never got a chance to appreciate it because he was obviously a bottom. It made his cock twitch now that Hood could appraise it and fuck it properly.

Immediately, Dick squirmed and turned around so that his front was pressed against the wall and his back was pressed against Hood's front. He could feel Hood's hardness so he took it upon himself to grind his ass against it greedily. Hood thrusted against him roughly before reaching around and almost ripping the fly open so he could yank the pants down ferally. In less than a second he heard Hood unzip his own pants and shuddered when he felt the warmth of the man's cock between his legs.

Dick bent over enough to arch his back and press against him in wait.

Hood, however, was far more generous than he expected once again. He heard a brief sucking sound before he felt two fingers suddenly pressed inside him, stretching and preparing him. Dick moaned and rocked his hips in time with the digits; he definitely missed this feeling. It's been way too long since he's been fucked like this and he couldn't wait to have the real thing pounding inside him.

Hood's breath was shallow and ragged against his back and his teeth were deliciously sharp on his skin. Before Dick knew it, the third and fourth finger had come and gone, and now Hood was pressing inside him and Dick was crying out pleas and curses against the cold metal walls. No wonder Hood had taken the time to stretch him, he could already feel this man was huge.

Jesus, Tim was lucky.

"Oh, god, oh fuck," Dick whimpered, thrusting his own hips back to take the man in more. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," he chanted taking himself in hand and jacking hard and rough in time with Hood's new pace. His fingers were digging into his hips just right and if he just adjusted a little bit to the right-

"Oh god, oh yeah," Dick cried out. Hood thrusted into him ecstatically, Dick matched him pace for pace; it felt so fucking good when he climaxed that he didn't even care that he face was scraped against the cold metal wall or that Hood spilled his load inside him. This is exactly what he needed, he realized as Hood pulled out and tucked himself away.

Dick took a moment to come down from his high before stretching out and eventually pulling his own pants back up too.

"Mm, thanks hot stuff," he grinned hazily as he turned around. He could hear Hood smirk, but his Hood was already back on, so he couldn't see it. "We should do that again before I actually have to kill you."

Hood laughed at that and shook his head. "Don't count on it, sweet cheeks," he retorted before turning to walk away. "Oh, and..." he turned around pulling out a small silver dagger- Dick's dagger, he realized as he patted its empty holster. He must have dropped it on his rampage earlier...shit. "Thanks for the souvenir."

"You son of a-" but Hood was already gone.

"Alright," Dick sucked on his tongue haughtily for a moment before smirking. "Fine. We'll see about that."


End file.
